The Little Emperor's Hand
by Jedi Jesi Jiin
Summary: Mara Jade is chafing under the all-controlling hand of her master. Determined to get away from him and find some sort of relief, she accepts a stranger's offer of help. Little does she know what chain of events her decision will set in motion. A Star Wars tale Little Mermaid style. Cover photo art done by "Anime-Ray" on DeviantART. Updated 02.16.16 and more to come as I have time.
1. Prologue

**The Little Emperor's Hand**

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_**A/N1:**_**Major AU story!**

_Timeframe: The main body of this story begins shortly after ESB. _

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_**A/N2:**__ I do not own Star Wars._

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**Prologue:**

_**200 ABY**_

The pitter-patter of little feet sang throughout the marble corridors as a young girl eagerly swept through one exhibit after another in the Museum of Galactic History. In her nine years, she did not comprehend much of what she saw in the museum, but she did understand the art and artifacts she encountered.

She loved seeing the animal skeletons in the natural history section, which proudly displayed the remains of hundreds of species found scattered about the vast galaxy. She also loved looking at the holos that accompanied written displays, since it was nice to get a visual of what the journalists were trying to explain.

Walking behind the child at a much more sedate pace was an elderly woman, her silvery hair pulled back in a neat bun at the crown of her head while she clasped a shawl about her aging shoulders. But despite her age, she held herself with a certain pride that came from knowing she came from the Solo line.

Jerati Solo looked up to where her granddaughter skipped along; keeping her in visual range to make sure she didn't get into trouble. She smiled when the girl suddenly braked to a halt, her arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance.

Jerati lifted a brow, curious as to what had caused such a reaction from her granddaughter. When she at last caught up with the child, she noted the odd tilt to her head and the open curiosity about her find.

"Grandma, what's that?" she asked, pointing to something hung upon the wall.

Jerati followed the child's gaze, and felt her breath catch in her throat. Stars… she had forgotten all about that painting! How could she have? She used to gaze at it for hours when she was younger; dreaming about what it would have been like to actually meet the artwork's subjects.

A rare find these days— even more so than when the painting had been created— the canvas sported the image of a couple that was very much in love. A man blessed with blond hair and the bluest eyes Jerati had ever known to exist held a woman with red-gold hair, piercing green eyes, and porcelain skin.

They were not looking at the artist, but rather each other: and the love they shared was obvious in the way the man smiled just so and how the woman's hand caressed his face tenderly.

"Grandma?" the child asked again, breaking into Jerati's musing.

Jerati blinked to clear her mind, and then smiled down at her granddaughter.

"That, Karrie, is a painting." Jerati explained.

"A painting?" Karrie sounded awe-struck. "I've heard of them in school but I haven't ever seen one!"

Jerati smiled. "Yes, they are very hard to come by nowadays."

Karrie reached out as if to touch it, but stayed her hand just shy of doing so. "Who are they, Grandma?"

"That, my dear, is Luke Skywalker and his wife Mara Jade Skywalker," Jerati said with reverence. "They are our ancestors from the time of the Empire and the founding of the New Republic, which later became the Galactic Alliance."

"You mean…" Karrie gasped, her excitement mounting. "We are related to Luke Skywalker? _The_ Luke Skywalker?!"

"Yes." Jerati chuckled. "The one and the same."

"Wow!" Karrie murmured.

They gazed at the picture for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts until Karrie turned to Jerati.

"How did they meet?" she asked.

"Ah." Jerati gestured to a bench on the opposite side of the hall. "That, Karrie, is a long tale, one that begins with a little back-story."

Once they were both seated, Karrie gave her grandmother her full attention, eager to hear of her ancestors. Her mind was awhirl with the thought that she shared blood with the greatest Jedi Master of that era. No one, at least in Karrie's opinion, had ever come close to Skywalker's achievements.

And she had heard stories of the gentle man behind the rough Jedi exterior, and had often wondered about him.

Karrie abruptly realized that Jerati had stopped speaking; probably noticing the child's wandering mind.

She offered a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Grandma. I was just picturing what it would have been like to meet him."

Jerati sighed wistfully. "I cannot tell you how many hours I have spent thinking that very same thing, Karrie."

The girl smiled. "You daydreamed too?"

"I did." Jerati tapped Karrie's nose fondly. "But let's not tell anyone okay?"

"Okay." Karrie giggled.

"Now, where was I?" Jerati pursed her lips. "Ah, yes… Mara Jade. You see, she was in a tough spot when she and Luke first met. You see, she was raised by Emperor Palatine to become his servant."

Karrie gasped in horror. "Mara was a Sith?"

"No, that was Darth Vader's role." Jerati corrected. "Mara was an agent of the Empire. She answered to Palpatine and him alone. She did his bidding, and she was _very _good at her job."

Karrie looked at the woman in the painting again, seeing her in a new light.

"Mara doesn't _look _like an agent of the Emperor." She frowned.

"That's because she stopped being his Hand soon after the Rebellion left Hoth," Jerati said.

"Hand?"

"Her official title was Emperor's Hand." Jerati informed the child.

"Oh." Karrie thought for a moment. "What changed?"

Jerati smiled. Karrie was indeed a Solo: sharp as a vibroblade.

"She did," Jerati replied. "Shortly after meeting her future husband, actually."

"Tell me the story, Grandma?" Karrie's eyes were alight with wonder. "Please?"

"Very well." Jerati settled back against the wall. "It begins with Mara, who was starting to chafe under her master's all-controlling rule over her life…"


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

_**3.5 - 4 ABY**_

"We have no reason to believe the supply run along the Perlemian Trade Route will be disturbed, Your Majesty," Moff Hugga assured the Emperor. "It is protected by two cruisers, as well as a full flight of TIE fighters."

Palpatine peered down his nose at the man standing just before his raised throne. The Moff was too sure of himself, something that would be his downfall very soon, he mused. But not now: the man still had his uses.

"You know this for a fact, do you?" Palpatine asked quietly.

The Moff did not miss the dangerous edge in his Emperor's voice, nor the warning to tread carefully.

"I will see to its security personally if you so desire, Sire." Hugga bowed low.

Palpatine pursed his lips in thought… then he grinned to himself.

"Very well, Moff Hugga." He allowed with a flick of his wrist to signal him to rise. "I expect to see you the moment you return to Coruscant, however."

Hugga swallowed, but nodded once sharply. "Yes, Majesty."

"You are dismissed." Palpatine was already looking elsewhere.

The man left, allowing the Sith Master a moment with his thoughts. The Dark Side whispered that the convoy was indeed ripe for the picking. But though the Moff had his value, if he could not provide acceptable results, then his usefulness would be passed to someone else.

There was no certainty that the convoy would be hit, just a premonition of something big happening. And it felt to Palpatine that whatever happened on that route would start a chain-reaction of events.

But what actions, the Force refused to show him. He furled his lips in a snarl, for the first time in a long while cursing the very Force which gave Palpatine his power. But he could, and would, be patient; knowing that everything would work itself out.

It had always worked as he desired it to. Why should now be any different?

Still… he could take precautions. Opening himself to the Force, he sent out a mental command to his most trusted agent.

**00000**

The booth was situated in a dark corner of the hazy establishment, its lone occupant paying only enough attention to the crowd to be alert for trouble. Her drink sat before her, barely touched as she lost herself to her thoughts.

What was the purpose of her life, really? She served a man she had once believed with all her being was good and just. And she had once had a reason to stay loyal to him… or so she had deluded herself into thinking.

He had raised her, and though she'd loved him almost as a father her feelings had never been reciprocated, leaving a young girl broken and confused. She'd had to pick up the pieces of her heart time and again until she'd finally formed a diamond-hard shell about the bruised and aching organ.

Nothing had penetrated the durable shield for years, and that had allowed her to carry out any and all tasks assigned to her without question or regret.

But that unbreakable shell had fissured for the first time with the destruction of Alderaan. That act had washed over her in the Force, taking her by utter and complete surprise. She had woken up in the medical wing three days later with no clue as to how she had gotten there. Her master had been there, his understanding smile plastered on his decaying visage.

"_Master?" she asked groggily, trying to sit up. "What happened?"_

"_You passed out, my dear," he answered._

"_How?" she asked, completely embarrassed. _

"_You felt a great disturbance in the Force," he explained. "One that you did not expect, but it has run its course, and you have nothing to worry about my dear."_

_She nodded, accepting his word as truth, since she had nothing else to go by._

It hadn't been until she was cleared to return home to her apartment that the memory of the pain, suffering and terror came to her. The sound of millions of anguished voices crying out and in the same instant wiped from the mortal plane as though they were a horde of bothersome insects on a picnic blanket.

She had dug up the truth— discreetly so she didn't arouse suspicion— and had nearly collapsed from shock when she discovered that a planet had been destroyed. How in the galaxy had that happened?

She knew, of course, the answer. Palpatine's toy at that time: the Death Star.

She had of course known of its existence, but in her naivety she hadn't really believed he would use it. She recalled snorting derisively to herself then: for who would spend billions of credits and thousands of labor hours on a moon-sized battle station without the intent to use it?

The woman's thoughts were interrupted by a stirring she recognized. It always preceded a message from her master.

Quickly, she organized her thoughts, securing her doubts behind durasteel shields and preparing herself to receive his command.

_Mara Jade, my Hand._ Came his voice in her mind.

_Yes, Master, I am here._ She answered obediently.

_Come to me. I have a new mission for you._ And with that the Emperor's voice was gone, leaving her slightly disoriented.

Mara sat for a moment, staring into the amber liquid in her mug, watching the last dredges of foam swirl along the surface. Thinning her lips, Mara threw a credit-chip on the table and left without touching her ale.

Leaving the cantina, Mara drew up her hood and proceeded to make her way back to the Imperial Palace. She used the long walk to return to her musings.

Mara had been appalled— despite herself— at Alderaan's destruction, and since the fissure in her heart's armor had appeared, she'd been forced to feel the effects then. And she hadn't liked it one bit.

But after more than a decade of cold-hard, calculating living, Mara had also found the emotion to be almost warm and refreshing. It had both surprised and terrified her, after living shut off from everything and everyone around her except Palpatine.

She remembered almost fondly when the Death Star had been destroyed at Yavin. Once she was alone in her chambers, she'd given a silent cheer, sending a mental thumbs-up to the brave— or suicidal— pilot who'd fired the impossible shot.

Mara had sworn then and there that is she ever came across the man or woman responsible for that shot, she would let them go free. When the Imperial Intelligence department had at long last discovered Luke Skywalker's identity, Mara had committed his name to memory.

She'd subsequently learned all she could about him, wondering how a backwater farmboy could have done the impossible.

Mara's thoughts shifted a little, remembering other instances that had also helped to widen the fissures of her heart's hard shell into larger cracks, until entire gaps emerged.

A few of her missions had been to take out not just a target, but also their families. Mara had looked into the faces of the children and wives, and then to the men quivering before her blade. The shell about her heart had quivered against the raw emotions emanating from the victims and their families.

Of course, Mara always did her homework, and so she knew traitorous scumbags when she saw them, showing them no mercy. But when her master ordered the death of a man simply because he couldn't properly meet his quota… that was wrong.

The first time she had lied to her master about completing a mission had been difficult, as she's been so nervous she'd nearly swayed as she walked on her approach to the Palace after landing. How she'd managed to get her wobbly knees to work properly and her voice to remain even, Mara would never know.

All she knew in that moment was that she had made the right choice in letting the innocent man and his family live: provided they disappeared forever.

Someone bumped into her as they passed, and Mara instinctively checked all her pockets and holsters to be sure nothing had been taken. Then she realized she was almost to the Palace.

Grimacing, Mara tried to organize her mind again, carefully shoving any and all treasonous thoughts behind mental lock-and-key. Minutes later she stood before the doors to Palpatine's throne room.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Mara signaled the guard and they opened the door for her.

The room was expansive, dark, yet elegant in all its splendor. Mighty pillars rose from floor to ceiling, their pinnacles being lost to the shrouding gloom her master delighted in. The pale floor shone in stark contrast to the heavy black curtains that shrouded out all natural light. Instead, sconces lined the walls every so often, exuding an orange light to see by.

At the head of the room, upon his raised dais that he so loved, Palpatine sat upon his throne: a magnificent piece of twisted art. His robed form sat deeply in the chair, his feet propped up lazily on a small footrest.

Mara walked with a clipped stride, confident in her step as she approached. Once she reached the foot of the steps to his throne, she knelt and bowed her head.

"What is your command, Master?" she asked with as much reverence as she could muster.

Lately, she had been restless and chafing under his all-controlling mentality. He delighted in any and all opportunities to remind her that he owned her. He allowed her so very few luxuries, and the rare few she truly appreciated were a double-edged sword: if she disobeyed him they would be taken away again.

She simply wanted freedom: to experience life outside the confines of his oppressive and cumbersome rule. But she had no clue where to start, and she knew he would never let her have such freedom.

Mara would truly wonder if he ever did, and knew that she would spend her days looking over her shoulder, waiting for him to rein her back in.

"I have a new task for you, my child," he said.

_No hello._ Mara grated silently, careful to shield that thought. _Just down to business as usual. 'Cause it's not like I have given everything to him… I don't even warrant a greeting. _

Mara remained bowed, awaiting his assignment.

"You will keep an eye on Moff Hugga and the shipment being delivered along the Perlemian Trade Route." He ordered. "Do not interfere unless the convoy is attacked. I wish you to report to me of any Rebel activity… and how the Moff responds to it."

Mara lifted her head in surprise. "You suspect him to be a traitor, Master?"

He leveled a hard ocher glare at her. "Did I say that?"

Mara instantly played the penitent child, bowing her head low. "No, Master."

She could feel his hot gaze upon her, and she had to force herself not to fidget: something that became increasingly difficult the more she saw what the rotting corpse of a man before her was capable of.

"You seem to be hesitant of late to obey my command as you once did, Mara," he said conversationally.

Mara's blood ran cold. "I am loyal to you as ever, Master."

"Hm." He snorted a little. "I must admit I have my doubts, Child. However, I do not doubt your ability to perform a given task. It would be unfortunate to have to revisit your training, would it not?"

"I will not fail you, Master," she said firmly, even knowing it was only partially true.

"See that you do not, Mara." He warned, and she smelled the faint ozone that danced across his fingertips. "For my word, my will is absolute. And disobedience _will_ be punished."

"Yes, Master," Mara said humbly.

She truly did not want to return to any of her training, and she most definitely did not want to be at the receiving end of his Force lightning… again.

"Leave: report to me when you have returned." He waved her away.

Mara waited until she was in her ship, ready for launch before she let loose her frustration in a raw scream. She hated her master more each day, and her heart longed for just a small act of love on her master's part.

Did he not know what she would have done for him in return for true affection? Was no one important to that man aside himself?

All her life she had dedicated to him; served him faithfully, and not once did he recognize anything but her successes with praise. But even those moments had been fueled by his knowledge that she as a useful tool to him, and nothing more.

Mara reached deep within and tugged at what remained of her hard-built shields. Her aching heart didn't stop feeling, but her resolve to remain strong never wavered.

If he would not love her, or at least grant that she was important to him aside from her talents, and then she would not be devoted to him in return. And she was chafing more and more to get away from him… permanently.

Hell, she'd even take a vacation at this point, just for the chance to get a breath of fresh air… and possibly find a new meaning to her life.

With a sigh, Mara lifted her ship from the landing pad and soared for the skies.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

(_I found the jokes online, just so you know._)

Deep in the blackness of space there was nothing to do to entertain oneself. And yet, despite that fact, a certain group of pilots somehow managed to defy that logic.

A scattering of twelve X-wings floated in loose pairs, scattered about the area to better spot their incoming target. Behind them a ways was a small Corellian CC-9600 Frigate, waiting to lend a hand if needed. But their main purpose in being here was to collect their spoils.

"Okay Boss." Wes Jansen's voice came over his headset. "One more."

Luke Skywalker managed to stifle a groan. Wes Jansen had been 'entertaining' his fellow Rogues with horrid jokes amid the squadron's small talk.

"Wes, I don't think Luke's too keen on hearing another one." Wedge Antilles spoke up, obviously thinking along the same lines as Rogue Leader.

"Awe… come on!" Wes whined. "It's a lot better than the last few, promise!"

Luke shook his head with a small smile. He loved his fellow pilots, they were great friends, but sometimes their shenanigans got a little too weird, even for him.

"Alright Jansen, let's hear it." Luke allowed, listening to other pilots moan in protest over the open line.

"Okay: Knock knock."

"Who's there!" Derek "Hobbie" Klivian— Wes's partner in crime— piped up with far too much enthusiasm.

"Luke!"

"Luke who?"

"Luke out! Here comes another knock knock joke!" Wes finished happily.

Luke slapped a hand to his face, glad his squadron mates couldn't see his red visage.

"UUGGH!" Tycho Celchu complained loudly.

"Wes!" Rogue Eight joined in protesting.

"That was horrid!" Someone else grouched.

Luke merely shook his head again, letting it go in favor of keeping the squadron's spirits up. It would help them stay more alert for the mission.

"Besides; if you plan to tell a joke, Jansen, you need to be sure it's _actually _funny." Wedge challenged good-naturedly.

"Yeah?" Wes returned. "Well then, Rogue Two, let's hear it!"

Wedge cleared his throat while the entire squad listened in to the banter. "What do you call a potato that has turned to the Dark Side?"

Silence as everyone thought, and even Luke had to admit his interest was piqued. Finally, someone ventured a guess.

"Uh… over done?"

"Nope… Vader tots!" Wedge finished.

It took all of a heartbeat for the squadron to burst out into various stages of laughter, making the comm. lines ring with the sound. Luke was caught in-between sputtering almost indignantly and trying _very_ hard not to laugh at the double meaning for him.

Eventually however, his humorous streak won out, and he chuckled with his friends, feeling tears of mirth leak from the corners of his eyes.

"Ha!" Rogue Ten piped up. "Can you just imagine little three-feet Vaders' running along behind that man?"

Luke's smile and mirth abruptly faded even as more laughter spewed forth from his squadron-mates.

"Yeah! I can just see that hulk of wires trying to conduct a battle while keeping an eye on them on the bridge!" someone else chortled.

"No, no!" Hobbie piped up. "He'd have a new job created: Vader-tot sitter. If you survive daycare, I'll let you live!"

Luke shut off the comm., not wanting to hear anymore as images of him in a very familiar black suit wafted up hauntingly in his mind's eye. His friends had no idea just how close to the mark they were that Vader had a son… or that said child had the potential to become just like the Dark Lord.

A click over his private com sounded, and Luke took a steadying breath before answering.

"Skywalker."

"Hey, Luke," Wedge said, a note of concern in his voice. "Are you okay?"

Luke thinned his lips momentarily, shoving aside his thoughts of Vader so he could focus.

"Yeah, Wedge… I'm okay."

The other man didn't sound convinced. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah, it's just…" Luke sighed.

He felt something click in Wedge's mind just before he spoke again. "Memories of Bespin, huh?"

"Yes," he whispered, nodding even though the other man couldn't see it.

"Ah Luke, I'm sorry man." Wedge apologized. "That was careless of me."

"No, it's okay Wedge…" Luke assured him, knowing Wedge was speaking of his duel. No one aside from Luke knew of his newfound heritage. "Let the men have their fun."

"Still, I should have thought before…"

Wedge was cut off by an alarm signaling Luke that a ship was exiting hyperspace near them. Reopening the squad-wide frequency, Luke called for attention.

"Alright everyone, let's focus. Our target is coming out of lightspeed… now."

A convoy of three ships appeared on their scopes, just out of firing range: an Imperial Star Galleon escorted by two smaller cruisers… and according to their Intel, a flight of TIE fighters.

Luke kicked his X-wing into gear. "Let's do this people, just as we discussed: aim to disable, we want the cargo in that Galleon. Form into trios and come at them from different angles."

"Copy that, Rogue Leader." Several voices chorused.

Luke led the way for his own trio, Wedge and Tycho flanking him. Their only chance to get anywhere would be the element of surprise, and so they wasted no time in firing at the flagship's engines when they were in range to do so.

"Luke, I've got a name for the Star Galleon," Tycho alerted him. "It just came up on my readout: the _Plunder_."

"Seriously?" Wedge remarked dryly.

"Cut the chatter, Rogue Two." Luke ordered. "Aim for their shields."

"Yes sir." Wedge followed him in, Tycho on their tails as they opened their s-foils and spewed red laser-fire at the larger ship.

Their lasers hit the marks with noted explosions before Artoo Detoo whistled at him. Luke glanced at the translation screen, and then grimaced.

"Okay, their shields are up at full capacity now." Luke announced.

Bright flashes appeared as a second flight of X-wings appeared over the hull of the _Plunder_. Luke sensed a warning in the Force, and gave a command to his wingmen.

"Rogues Two and Three, pull up!"

Luke and his wingmen pulled up in time to avoid return fire from the cruiser they'd attacked. Luke barrel rolled as another salvo came at them from a different area.

"We only have a few minutes Rogues, so let's make this count!" Luke called over the line.

"Luke, I've got incoming enemy fighters at heading Oh-Nine-Three." Wedge told him.

"Alright, stay alert you two." Luke dove again as the first wave of TIE's spewed green spits of laser at him.

**00000**

Mara felt the warning in the Force just before she dropped from lightspeed; making sure to stay far enough behind the small convoy to be out of sensor range. She pulled the hyperspace levers on her tiny ship that could hold only two people, and saw what the Force had been trying to tell her.

Ahead of her position, and appearing as a swarm of flies pestering a larger animal from this distance, a battle raged as someone attempted to take the supplies being hauled by the _Plunder_.

Mara would have bet a month's salary that it was the Rebel Alliance.

She pursed her lips, seeing an opportunity before her now. She could help the Imperials… or she could come to the aid of the Rebels. If she helped the Rebels and her master found out, she'd be severely punished if not killed.

Indecisive, Mara picked up speed to get closer, using the time to think

A niggling voice at the back of her mind was telling Mara to err on the side of caution, and she got a sense of… _something_ in the Force. She wasn't a fully trained user, since the Emperor only allowed her to learn enough to perform her given tasks, but she got the distinct impression that there was another Force-user out here.

Mara could feel this person draw on the Force, and as she got close enough to see better, she had little trouble picking him out from the crowd.

While fighters on both sides flew with the accuracy and experience of many battles, one snub fighter stood out above the rest. This ship seemed to know beforehand when a shot would come, and simply not be there when it was fired.

The ship jinked and juked madly as it was pursued by a quartet of TIE fighters. Then it dove into an ever-tightening corkscrew that caused two of the four TIE's pursuing to clip wings and disappear into a flaming ball.

Mara had to admit she was impressed. She was a great pilot herself, but to see it from someone else was a new thing for her. If fact, only one other person Mara knew of could fly like that: Darth Vader.

_Interesting_. Mara thought.

She used her specialized communications equipment to listen in on the Rebel frequency while she continued her approach. Suddenly a large explosion ripped through one of the escort cruisers, and the thing began to float away from the fight, spewing flotsam and atmosphere.

The X-wings who'd been hassling that ship peeled off to help their peers with the other escort, even as the Force-using ship and his wingmen attempted to disable the _Plunder_.

"_Luke, the _Plunder'_s shields are nearly spent: two more strafing runs should do it!" _someone piped up.

"_Copy Rogue Two."_

Mara blinked in surprise. Rogue Squadron?

Even in the Empire that group of pilots was well known, as they often caused the most trouble… and contained some the Rebellion's top pilots. Then the name Rogue Two had used came back even as Mara recalled who the squadron's current leader was: Luke Skywalker.

The lead X-wing banked hard to port before letting loose with a red salvo, which made damage again as the _Plunder'_s shields flickered dangerously.

"_Rogue Leader, I have a clear shot to the shield generator," _someone said.

"_Fire at will, Rogue Four."_ Skywalker replied.

Moments later another explosion hit open space as the generator blew, and that was when Mara's scope came alive with a new blip. She looked to her starboard side and saw a larger Rebel ship bearing down on the cruiser even as the Rogues disabled the engines, preventing the _Plunder'_s impending escape into hyperspace.

Mara shook her head. Why the blasted Moff had ordered a jump change was beyond her, when they could have easily used a different route and made the journey in one take.

"_Rogue Leader, this is Captain Manthra onboard the _Titan's Pride_, ready to attach to the _Plunder_."_

"_I copy, Captain." _Luke's voice returned._ "We're taking out their turbolasers now. Rogue Ten, take Eleven and Twelve and protect the _Titan_."_

"_Will do!"_

Mara was now in firing range, yet she was coming in at an angle just under the crippled Imperial cruiser. If she timed it just right, she could slip in unseen.

More explosions ripped across the stern of the _Plunder_ as their weapons placements were shot to hell. Then, to her surprise, the lead X-wing sped into the hangar bay onboard the _Plunder_.

She knew she had to make her choice, and fast.

Did she continue to blindly and willingly serve a man she no longer held much— if any— faith in? Or did she help the Rebels?

Mara didn't know where she sat on the fence just yet, but she _did_ know that the Rebels were causing trouble for Palpatine. And hadn't she already resigned herself to the fact that he would never love her?

She had also decided on her way here that she was done playing her role as his 'queen', moving about the game board at the will of her master, completely enslaved to his demands. She wanted freedom; she wanted it so badly it hurt. But she would never truly have it… unless she did something to make it happen.

But she could not just blatantly aid the Rebels; she had to be more subtle.

Making up her mind, Mara piloted her ship into the hangar to join Rogue Leader, who she now saw was making his way to the storage hold just off the bay.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Mara landed a safe distance away from the Rebel's X-wing, and climbed from her craft. She took a steadying breath as she made her way to the hatch that would lead her to the cargo bay.

She tried to figure out just how she was going to help the Rebels without Moff Hugga figuring out her treasonous acts. No doubt he was busy 'orchestrating' this so-called battle.

Mara snorted: the fool was incompetent. It was no wonder the Rebels— a mere twelve X-wings— were able to so easily outmaneuver the trio of crafts much larger than their own ships. An _actual_ military leader would have known how to counter the pesky snub fighters, and the X-wings would have had to work that much harder to achieve their means.

She smiled grimly at the thought of shoving that in the Moff's face when they came nose to nose after this was all over. She would take great pleasure in it.

Blaster fire brought her out of her thoughts, and Mara snuck carefully along.

**00000**

He had to give credit where it was due: the Imperials ran good-looking, clean vessels. Nothing was out of order, which made his task of locating the cargo that bay much easier.

Though he was beginning to wonder at how little actual resistance they'd encountered thus far. Was this all a trap? Or was there a chance that the man in charge of this little fleet was just that inept?

The thought simultaneously lifted his spirits with a smidgen of hope, and dampened them with a tinge of dread.

Luke was already halfway down the corridor when the first squad of stormtroopers arrived. He had been wondering what was taking them so long. As soon as the door opened ahead of him, he turned his cautious jog into a sprint, skidding to a halt even as he slammed a hand down on the door release for the hatch that led to storage.

Blasterfire shot up the wall right beside him, making Luke wince… and wish not for the first time that he had his lightsaber. He took aim with his own blaster as he hugged the doorjamb, seeking what little shelter there was.

He nearly toppled backwards when the door abruptly opened, causing him to lose his balance momentarily. Luke scrambled to his feet, quickly shaking off his surprise.

The stormtroopers plowed through the doorway him inside just as he dove behind a crate.

They took careful aim, Luke noted, trying not to hit the crate itself. Luke risked peeking around his cover to take a shot, and one of the four went down. But the other three combined their shots toward where his head had been seconds ago.

He winced as the blasts caught the edge of the crate, causing shrapnel to sting his arm and face. Ignoring the pain, Luke took blind aim, trusting the Force to guide his shot, and he heard a second trooper gasp before slumping to the floor.

What Luke wasn't expecting was to hear the remaining pair of stormtroopers scream in fear amid a sudden blast wave of a mini grenade. Luke sat stunned for a moment, his ears ringing from the explosion.

When he risked a quick peek around the crate, he found himself coming face-to-face with a pair of vivid green eyes. Luke jumped in shock, and then hissed as the shrapnel in his skin tugged with the motion.

"Get up!" was the order that got Luke moving again.

There was something in this newcomer's voice that left no room for argument. Luke leapt to his feet, getting his bearings… but when he turned to find the person— a woman, he now saw— she was already beating a retreat.

If he'd had the luxury of time, Luke would have gone after her. But experience, his sense of duty and the need to get these supplies to the Alliance won out. Luke managed to get a faint glimpse of a pale face framed by a halo of red-gold hair before the mysterious woman was gone.

Moments after the woman had departed, the strike team arrived, wasting no time in snagging their designated cargo. Luke grabbed a crate as well, staying to the rear of the team once all their chosen supplies were within their grasp.

More blasterfire began to be exchanged as reinforcements for the original squad of Imperials arrived. Those steering crates began to pick up their pace even as other Rebels returned fire, managing for the moment to keep the enemy at bay.

Luke followed his fellow Rebels into the hall, catching sight of the line of troopers standing guard. Luke tapped one on the shoulder and motioned to his own crate.

"Take this will you? I'll watch the rear."

"Yes, Sir." The man holstered his weapon and did as Luke asked, swapping places with Luke.

Together, he and the line of men backed up as their people returned to the _Titan's Pride_. Once they entered the room next to the hangar where they had blown the hole, they paused outside the entrance to protect the men boarding the Rebel ship.

Luke kept an eye on his men, and as soon as the last one was onboard, he turned to those blasting at the Imperials.

"Get going!" he ordered. "I'll cover your retreat!"

"What about you, Sir?" one man asked.

"I'll be fine." Luke assured him. "Now go!"

"Yes, Sir!"

The assembled Rebels sprinted for the _Titan_. After it had successfully detached, Luke used the Force to blast the stormtroopers off their feet. That bought him a few seconds to get to the hangar.

His eyebrows lifted when he spotted a two-seater starfighter docked not so far from his X-wing, and wondered if that was where the woman had come from. Luke's step faltered, wondering if he should go back for her.

But he hadn't seen her since she left the room, and there was no way he was getting anywhere in this ship except a detention cell… if the stormtroopers didn't kill him first.

Luke didn't like it, but he leapt into his X-wing— which Artoo had been keeping ready— and took off.

**00000**

Mara blew out a sigh of relief when Luke's ship blasted for open space. Though she was cursing herself for having allowed him to see her.

_So much for subtlety, Mara!_ She chided herself. _You just bombed a squad of stormtroopers!_

But there was nothing that could be done about that now. The bay was recorded by cameras, so everything had been caught on holofilm.

Mara abruptly straightened: holo-feeds could be altered.

Thanking the Force for her chance to retain her clean slate, Mara carefully snuck to the security office, using all her training. She either moved with the shadows, or simply walked the corridors like she belonged there.

She received a few curious glances, but no one stopped her.

At long last, Mara arrived at the office and was not surprised to find it manned by only a single low-ranking officer. He looked up as Mara entered.

"May I help you?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, you can go on a break." Mara used the Force as she'd been taught to command obedience, and he gave her a blank look.

"I want to take a break." He stood and left, but not before Mara deftly snagged his pass card.

Mara sat at his station and replayed the holo-feed, looking for any signs of her presence. There; in the doorway it caught a flash of her red-gold hair. Mara used her splicing experience to hack into the feed and erase her images in that feed that related to the Rebel action, leaving only that of the Rebels and the stormtroopers.

To erase the entire feed would have been suspicious, leading to an investigation.

When finished, Mara sat back with a proud air. She was good to go.

**00000**

Moff Hugga looked up as the door to the bridge opened, and a red-haired woman strode confidently through. Hugga's spirits— already low from the embarrassing defeat by the Rebel Alliance— sank lower as he recognized the woman.

Precious few knew who Mara Jade was, most people of the court merely assumed that she was a courtesan or a favorite dancer of the Emperor. But he knew who she was… and who she served and reported to.

For Mara Jade to be here meant he was in for it.

She strode right up to him, eyes hard, and expression stony.

"Moff Hugga." She looked about pointedly. "I see you failed the Emperor."

He glared. He didn't like her, Emperor's Hand or not.

"The Rebels came from nowhere," he stated.

She snorted. "Hardly. They were waiting for you… they knew exactly where you would come out of hyperspace."

Hugga grumbled inwardly. He knew that, of course, but to have this… _woman_ rub it in his face was inexcusable.

"I had things well in hand," he snapped.

Mara lifted an imperious brow. "I can see that by the state of your ships."

"Go home to your master, Hand," Hugga hissed furiously.

Mara's eyes flashed. "You may want to think about how you plan to explain all of this to His Majesty. Especially after you went through so much trouble to ensure him nothing would befall this convoy." She turned back around. "Because when I give my report, you won't be a Moff for much longer."

Hugga grabbed her arm roughly. "You would do well to remember that you are no the only one the Emperor trusts."

Mara whirled on him, grabbing his wrist in her hand and bending the limb back to the breaking point… but stopping there. To his credit he did not scream out; but his face paled noticeably.

"If he trusts you, then why was I sent to babysit you?" Her voice was colder than the vacuum of space. "And don't _ever_ touch me again, are we clear?"

Hugga glared at her, but nodded curtly.

Mara released him. "Goodbye Moff. I will send word that you need assistance."

"We already have alerted the nearest Star Destroyer," Hugga ground out.

Mara chuckled mirthlessly as she walked away. "I guess you can do _something _right."

As soon as she was gone, Hugga let out a vulgar stream of curses under his breath, all of them featuring the red-head.

He spun to the Captain. "Get me the security footage. I want to know who boarded our ship, and I want to know when that _wretch_ got here!"

"Yes, Moff Hugga." The man promptly replied.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

The Captain came up to Hugga just when the Moff thought things couldn't get any worse… and brought him the best news of the day.

"Moff Hugga," the Captain saluted, and the young man beside him followed suit, standing at rigid attention. "We have information on the woman."

"Do go on." Hugga motioned for the trio to move to the side where they could converse in relative privacy.

"Yes, Sir." The Captain signaled to the other officer. "This is Lieutenant Mihas Sir; he will tell you what he told me."

Hugga gestured for the Lieutenant to speak, and the young man nodded.

"Sir, just after the Rebels escaped, the red-haired woman entered the security office, and… ah." He blushed fiercely.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Hugga pressed.

"Well, she somehow convinced me to leave my post, Sir, and when I returned I discovered that she'd tampered with the feed," the man said. "All the security holovids having to do with the raid were affected."

Hugga's brows went up to his hairline. The Emperor's Hand had left a trail?

"I only discovered this because the one feed she missed was the one of the office." Mihas looked nervous.

Hugga was deep in thought, and as the two men stood waiting for his reply, a smile crept upon his features.

"Very good work, Lieutenant," Hugga praised. "Bring me the video, and tell no one else of this."

"As you wish, Sir." The man saluted crisply and walked away.

Hugga allowed himself another moment to revel in his pending revenge. If the wretch had indeed been caught on tape deleting feed, he could also see just what she'd erased. And then he would take that to the Emperor, his transgression here would be forgiven… and the brat of a woman Mara Jade would get her dues.

His day was finally looking up. He looked to the Captain.

"Prepare me a shuttle, for departure to Imperial Center as soon as I have the evidence."

"Yes, sir." The Captain replied.

**00000**

Luke sat in the cockpit of his fighter, absently gazing into the mottled skies of hyperspace. He couldn't shake the brief glimpse of the red head from his thoughts.

Every time he closed his eyes to rest from the strenuous battle, all he saw was that mane of golden red.

All he heard was that voice… it had been utter music to his ears. He kept hearing it… and after several hours of red-gold hair and soft, commanding voices, Luke began to wonder if he'd made her up somehow.

She had come and gone so swiftly that he had no other details.

With a sigh, Luke was brought back to reality with the timer on his hyperdrive. Settling back into pilot mode, Luke let the counter reach zero and then pulled back the hyperspace levers.

Cophrigin V greeted Luke, as did the rest of Rogue Squadron and the _Titan's Pride_.

"Hey, Luke!" Wedge's voice sounded over his comm. unit. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd made it out of there!"

"Thanks Wedge, I'm alright." Luke smiled. "Is everyone accounted for?"

"Yes sir!" Wedge reported happily.

"Good." Luke sighed in relief.

The convoy formed up and headed toward the Alliance base, within a mountain at the edge of a forest. The base was built into the mountain, where an abandoned series of tunnels from ancient miners had been discovered. After the integrity of the entire place had been verified, the Rebels had made it their home for the time being.

As the group of ships neared the base, Luke opened a hailing channel.

"Rogue Leader to Miner's Base, we are inbound with the _Titan's Pride_, ready to unload our 'precious cargo'," he reported.

The comm. unit crackled to life, and the watch-tower's current operator replied.

"Copy Rogue Leader. Proceed to the hangar for offloading."

"Copy that."

Luke switched to an open channel. "Alright everyone, you've earned yourselves a night off. Proceed to the hangar, and then go get some rest."

Several whoops of delight answered, and Luke hung back while all the other ships entered the landing space. Once they were all settled, Luke took his own craft in and set down in the remaining spot.

He sat back in his pilots couch with a weary sigh, listening to Artoo beeping happily. Luke smiled softly, and then began the shut-down sequence. He only paid half attention as his squadron beat a hasty retreat to other parts of the base.

When he finished, Luke exited his cockpit and then used the Force to lift Artoo from the droid socket. As soon as his wheels touched down, the droid tootled and sped away, leaving a chuckling Luke behind.

Luke spotted several of the men from the _Titan_ offloading crates, and he went over to help. As they worked, Luke kept an eye out for the man who'd been the first to enter the supply room on the Imperial ship.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Luke said in a low voice.

"Of course Commander," the man replied.

"Did you see a woman on the _Plunder_ when you came into the storeroom?" Luke asked.

The man lifted a brow. "Ah no, Sir; I don't recall seeing anyone but the stormtroopers and my fellow soldiers."

"Okay, I was just wondering," Luke murmured. "Thanks."

"Sure thing."

Luke continued to give his assistance until he felt a storm of joy coming ever closer. His smile was wide and full of love when he heard her shout his name.

"Luke!" Leia called, and he turned just in time to accept her embrace.

"Leia!" Luke breathed into her hair.

"Oh Luke! When I heard that you'd been separated from the rest of the convoy, I feared the worst!" Leia hugged him tighter for emphasis.

"I'm okay," Luke assured her.

"You'd better be," Leia growled, pulling away. "Because I can't lose you too."

Her voice caught, and Luke kissed her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

He offered his arm, and together they wandered from the hangar.

"Are you hungry?" Leia asked before grinning widely. "What am I asking for, of course you are!"

Luke returned her goofy grin. "A Rogue's got to eat!"

They shared a laugh and Leia shook her head, allowing him to lead her to the cafeteria, where they both grabbed a plate of food. They ambled toward a corner table, and settled down to eat.

Luke eagerly delved into his meal, grateful for something to eat aside from ration bars. Leia ate at a more civilized pace, eyeing Luke with amusement as his food disappeared at a much faster rate.

At some point, Luke noticed her watching him and he blushed sheepishly before slowing down.

"So, ah…" Luke said between bites. "Any news on Han?"

Leia shook her head. "Not just yet."

Luke placed a hand over one of hers. "Lando and Chewie are doing their best, I'm sure."

She smiled softly. "I know. It's just… hard, sitting here doing nothing while they're out looking."

Luke squeezed the hand he held. "We'll find him, Leia."

She nodded.

**00000**

Mara usually abhorred it when people bit their nails, since it was a disgusting practice that clearly showed you were on edge. But at that moment, she felt like doing it herself. She was set to go before her master… after she had deliberately helped the Alliance on a raid she had been sent to prevent.

To say she was nervous was a gross understatement.

She steeled herself, pushing all but positive thoughts to the back of her mind where she locked them into her mental vault. If she went before Palpatine without anything but a confident, ordered mind, she'd be found out.

The entire trip back to Imperial Center, Mara had constructed a cover story. She had come up with a plausible alibi, and had repeated it to herself until she believed every word. She had no reason to be afraid, no need to be nervous.

So then why was it taking so long for her to be admitted? Usually she was allowed to see the Emperor as soon as she returned from a mission, in order to report when everything was still fresh in her mind.

The feeling that something was out of place kept nagging at her, yet all she could do was wait.

Mara took a deep breath, and put her years of training to good use in sitting still.

**00000**

Palpatine was not pleased at all. Hugga had failed him where the shipment was concerned, and thus the Empire had lost precious amounts of bacta and other needed medical supplies.

The Emperor did not care about such things, but he understood that his men needed medical supplies to perform their jobs. And since he _did_ care about the performance of his subjects, he was upset that Hugga had failed him.

But then the little worm of a man had brought forth different evidence. Proof that set his blood to boiling, and there was no doubt that the Moff kneeling before him now felt it clear as day.

"This is a very serious accusation, Moff Hugga," Palpatine hissed.

"I understand, Majesty." Hugga bowed low. "But I also know that she could use her position to get the Rebels valuable Intel."

Palpatine glared at him. "You would accuse my Hand, the most faithful one I have trained all these long years… of treason?"

Hugga swallowed with great difficulty. "I have evidence that suggests she aided the Rebels who attacked the convoy, Majesty."

"Let me see it," Palpatine ordered.

Hugga stood and offered a datapad, where he had keyed up the frames of Mara Jade tampering with security footage. Palpatine watched in steamy silence as Mara edited the holovids, and when the data came to an end, he was ready to snap.

But he also planned to give Mara a chance to explain herself. He lifted his ocher gaze to the Moff, who stood with eyes lowered in respect.

"You did well to bring this to my attention, Moff Hugga," Palpatine allowed. "You would do well to keep this between us."

The threat was implicit, and the Moff bowed low again. "As you wish, Your Highness."

Palpatine gestured to one of his royal guards. "Take the Moff out through the back." To another, he said, "admit my Hand."

**00000**

Mara's head came up when the door finally opened, and she lifted her chin as the guard stepped forward.

"The Emperor will see you now."

"Thank you." Mara rose and strode forward with more confidence than she felt.

Something was off, and Mara had a feeling that she was treading thinner ice than she'd thought. She took several deep breaths as she walked toward her master.

Mara dropped to one knee, bowing her head reverently.

"Welcome home, Mara," Palpatine said softly.

"Thank you Master," Mara replied.

"And what do you have to report?"

"I arrived at the jump transfer point to find the convoy already under attack, Master." Mara opted for just enough truth to hide her lie. "I aided the _Plunder_ and her escorting ships, and when I saw a Rebel enter the hangar bay, I pursued."

"Go on," Palpatine encouraged.

"I tailed the Rebel, and moved to assist the stormtroopers in their capture of the man who landed in the _Plunder_, but we were ambushed by more Rebels who came in from a hull-breach. The Rebel got away, Master."

Palpatine took this in with silent observation, and Mara clung steadfastly to her story.

"Rise, My Child," he finally said.

Mara obeyed, and Palpatine sat forward. "I find it slightly amusing that you think you can get away with deceiving me."

Mara had to use all her training not to allow her eyes to widen in shock.

"Master?"

"How do you explain your tampering of the security feeds on the _Plunder_?" Palpatine grated.

Mara took a steadying breath. This was bad: how did he know of that?

"Answer me!" Palpatine snapped.

Again, Mara decided to trust in the partial truth.

"Yes, I did edit footage, Master," she admitted, bowing her head humbly. "But only because I was ashamed that I failed in my task."

"And how did you fail me, My Child?" he asked sweetly, something that frosted Mara's blood.

"By not helping Moff Hugga complete his assigned task," Mara replied.

Palpatine again settled back in his throne, regarding her with open mistrust. "You disappoint me, Mara."

Despite all her doubts, harsher words had never been spoken to her before, and she felt as though she'd been crushed. All her life she'd done everything in her power to please this man… and the one time she made a mistake, he lost all faith in her?

"Had you merely come to me with your failure, instead of trying to hide it, I may have been in a forgiving mood." He went on. "As it is, I must reprimand you for your choices, My Child."

Mara knew what was coming and braced herself, even as she knew it would do her no good. Blue-white lightning shot from Palpatine's fingertips and connected with Mara's body. She screamed in agony, dropping to the floor as the short burst coursed through her.

Palpatine was now on his feet, his gnarled hands raised in one of the most feared ways she knew.

"Did you think you could hide your Rebel sympathies from me?" he sneered, sending her into another fit of spasms with more lightning. "I saw you removing footage of yourself helping the Rebel!"

"I am sorry Master!" Mara wailed through her agony. "Please forgive me!"

Palpatine did pause at her supplications. "Forgive you?"

Mara was panting hard, but she knew she had to answer lest he give in to his impatience and anger again.

"Yes M-Master. I k-know I sc-screwed up!" Mara managed. "I was m-misguided!"

Palpatine's gaze bored into hers, and then without warning he was in her mind. Mara shrieked at the torment as he racked violently through her memories. She felt his anger grow with each discovery of her dissentious thoughts, and especially of her aid of the Rebel pilot.

"Master, please stop!" Mara begged, clutching her head in a death-grip. "I am sorry, so sorry!"

He left her mind so suddenly that she collapsed to the floor, and her last image was of him hovering over her, his eyes burning with murder.

**00000**

When she woke again, she opened her eyes slowly to discover that she was in her own bed. Having fully expected an execution, Mara didn't know what to make of her situation. She cautiously sat up, and was amazed that she didn't hurt anywhere.

Then she felt it: the ice-cold presence, and she jerked her head to the left. There was Palpatine, sitting regally in a chair by her door.

"Master," Mara said… or tried to.

The word cut off mid-way when a harsh jolt zapped her throat. Mara screamed, and got her throat fried again. She cut off all vocalizations and brought her hands up to her neck.

Cold, hard durasteel and even a few spikes met her skin, and Mara's eyes widened.

"I thought about killing you, My Dear, but that would not have been punishment enough for you," her master said into the silence. "You will remain in that collar as a reminder of what lying to me will get you: only pain and humiliation."

Palpatine stood, leering down at her. "There is a ball in three days time. You will attend in a strapless gown, with your new animal collar as your jewelry."

Mara made to answer vocally, and got jolted again. She squeezed her eyes shut and merely bowed her head, waiting until he'd left to let the tears flow.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

The gown she was to wear arrived the next afternoon, as well as implicit instructions to put her hair up so her collar would be on full and 'proud' display. Mara had been so furious that she threw the dress across the room and left, but not before wrapping a thick scarf about her neck.

She'd tucked the tail into her light jacket to give a completed look and avoid awkward questions as to why she was wearing a scarf in the middle of summer. Mara now sat in a dingy cantina in the under levels of Imperial Center, nursing a mug of Corellian ale and hoping she could find some way— any way— out of this mess.

The holovid in the cantina was broadcasting a news channel, and the current topic was sports. Mara watched the set for lack of anything else to do, and for the chance to get her mind off the impending gala.

She was still raw inside from being treated like a slave and an animal, but Mara knew she should be a grateful that she was even alive. But still, she would become the laughing stock of the Empire, and she'd never be able to show her face in Imperial space again.

Something twinged in Mara's Force-sense, and she looked up in time to see two small shadows slip into her booth, both sitting across from her. Mara's first instinct was to pull her hold-out blaster, but then she noticed their size. She simply stared, taken aback by these… girls, these children.

She cleared her throat, and was about to speak when she recalled her collar. Mara had spent a good many hours testing the limits of her imprisonment, and knew now that she could not use her vocal chords in any way except a whimper without receiving a shock.

"You are probably wondering why the pair of us are in an establishment we are a bit young for?" The girl on the left spoke in a melodious voice.

"We have not come to drink, Mara Jade." The other girl said in a soft, yet confident tone.

Alarmed, Mara sat back.

"Yes, we know who you are." The first girl leaned forward slightly. "I am Keelu, and this is my sister Alcina."

Mara frowned, and Alcina produced a piece of flimsi and a stylus and handed them to Mara.

"Write what you wish to ask us, you no doubt have questions," the girl offered.

Mara did so, writing down her first inquiry.

_How do you know me?_

"Our older sister has been keeping an eye on you, Mara," Keelu replied. "But do not let that bring you anxiety. She wants to help you."

_Why would she help a stranger?_

"She has her reasons," Alcina murmured.

Mara thought for a moment, and then scribbled her next question.

_Why should I trust you? What do I have to gain by any of this?_

"Are you not humiliated by what your master has done to you?" Keelu sounded affronted. "He has essentially enslaved you, a noble daughter of the Force… and for his own ends."

"Surely you know that the ball will be televised… and for the very first time?" Alcina added, gesturing to the holovid.

Mara lifted her eyes to it… and felt her heart sink to her toes. As if the newscaster had been eavesdropping into their conversation, the news was now going on about how the Emperor planned to have the upcoming dance televised for the galaxy to see.

And Mara instinctively knew that she would be at the center of the attention, put on display like some piece of rare art.

Forget Imperial space: if she went to the ball, she would never be able to show her face to the _galaxy_ ever again. Her face turned red, and to her horror the red-head's eyes misted. Mara brushed angrily at the moisture, embarrassed at this display of vulnerability.

Alcina leaned forward now. "Come and meet our older sister. Listen to what she has to say. That is all we ask."

"We believe she can help you, Sister Jade," Keelu spoke up.

Mara looked from the girls, to the news, and then around the room. Mara Jade, the Emperor's Hand, could survive many things, but she wasn't sure she could go through with the 'celebration'.

But how could this mystery woman help her?

Thinning her lips, Mara knew there was only one way to find out.

She nodded pointedly to the girls, who immediately grabbed the flimsi and rose, gesturing for Mara to follow them. With a deep breath, Mara laid a credit on the table to pay for her drink, and then left.

The girls, probably pre-teens Mara saw, now that they were standing and walking, led her deeper into the city. Mara had never ventured this far under the main levels, and for good reason. The people down here were nuts, and just plain dangerous.

Her step faltered when their entourage approached what looked like a rundown building that should have been torn down years ago.

What was she doing?

Part of her, the part that had been the loyal servant of her master for all of her known life told her to go back. But another part, a larger one, desperately wanted relief from the oppression of the Emperor.

She wanted freedom, to be able to spread her wings and fly on her own… to experience love. That was something Palpatine had frowned upon, and had never allowed her to even _begin_ to understand said emotion.

Mara had to know that she could make it without him. But part of her was terrified to try: mortified that she might just find what she sought… and not want to return to the Empire.

"We are here," Alcina said, opening the door and gesturing Mara forward after Keelu, who led the way inside.

Mara took one last look over her shoulder, and stepped through the portal. When the teenagers led her to a room at the center of the building, Mara felt her eyes widen. The rest of the structure may have been outdated and ready to collapse, but one wouldn't have been able to tell by looking at the room she'd just walked into.

The space was well lit with amber globe-lights, and three beds sat along one wall. A table sat in the center, while a small kitchenette had been set up at the far end. A curtain hung over what Mara presumed was the refresher, and there was even a sculpture and potted plant for decoration.

"Do come in, Mara," a smoky voice said from behind the curtain. "Do not be afraid. We are all equals in this room."

Mara watched as the two girls who'd escorted her settled themselves on a sofa by the nearby wall. Mara kept her face neutral as the curtain parted to reveal a woman with a bald head and pale white skin. There were tribal markings on her face, and a pair of curved lightsabers rested on a belt at her hips.

"Welcome to our temporary home, Mara." The woman glided gracefully forward, and stood before the red-head.

Mara sensed power in this woman, and she lifted a brow. But there was something that stopped her from lashing out. There did seem to be some sort of… kinship between Mara and the woman before her now.

"My name is Asajj." The woman bowed her head in greeting. "And I have asked my younger sisters to bring you here so that I might help you."

Mara lifted a brow, her question clear: how could this woman possibly help her?

"Let us sit down." Asajj gestured to the table.

Mara reluctantly agreed, and Asajj looked her in the eye. "I know you are a practical woman— something I like about you— so I will not waste time in sugar coating things. I want something from you: and in return, I can offer you a… _reprieve_ from the Emperor."

Mara couldn't contain her surprise. Had this woman read her mind? How did she know what she wanted?

"I am prepared to offer you three weeks away from Palpatine, in which he will not be able to locate you in the Force, nor communicate with you unless you initiate the bond." Asajj went on.

When Mara's jaw dropped, Asajj gestured to Alcina. "The flimsi please, sister Alcina."

The young woman stood and offered Mara the same flimsi and writing utensil as before, and Mara promptly wrote her thoughts.

_How do you know all of these things about me?_

Asajj smiled. "I know many things you don't, Mara. And I know things about Palpatine that few alive today do." Asajj settled back. "I have a personal agenda, and I plan to cause Palpatine a great deal of headache. Surely after what he's done to you, you can understand my reasoning."

_He is too powerful, how do you plan to stay safe from him?_

The other woman smirked. "I was learning the ways of the Force before your parents had even met. I will be fine."

_What do you plan to do, exactly?_

"Nothing that you need to know, in case he interrogates you," Asajj said. "Now, in exchange for this… vacation, all I ask is for your codes to the Imperial network. I need to be able to operate at your level of security at the very least."

Mara was doubtful. She wanted to get back at her master, yes, _and _she wanted to be free of him. But at what cost to innocent Imperial lives?

_Can you promise me there will be no unnecessary casualties?_ Mara wrote.

"I _can_ assure you that I will not target innocents, but I cannot promise nobody will get hurt," Asajj responded. "Do we have a deal?"

Mara chewed her lip, her hand coming up to her collar. A thought occurred to her then.

_Can you get this contraption off me?_

"I would try, but I do not know if it was rigged for just this reason. It may explode if I tamper with it," Asajj reasoned.

Mara hadn't thought of that, but of course the woman was right. She frowned.

_What are the terms for this deal?_

Asajj smiled. "Once you give me your codes, I and my sisters will place you under a protection spell. It will last for three weeks, ending at sundown on the final day. What happens after that is up to you."

_I will need transportation off Imperial Center._

"You may take one of our ships; we will not need it anymore." Asajj gestured to Keelu, who brought forward a keycard. "It's an older ship, but it will get you where you need to go."

Mara thought it through, unable to deny that she was getting her wish on more than one front. She could get out from under Palpatine's shadow for _three weeks_, she would be able to see the galaxy on her own… _and_ she would be able to avoid the humiliating display that would be the ball.

The thought then occurred to her how furious her master would be with her… especially when the time came for her to return.

If she did.

But Mara also knew that this opportunity would not arise again. So, taking a deep breath, Mara extended her hand and waited for Asajj to clasp and shake it.

Mara promptly wrote her codes, and then slid the sheet over to Asajj. The woman looked them over carefully, inputting them into a datapad and nodding when they worked.

"Very good, Mara." Asajj rose, gesturing for Mara to do likewise. "Follow us."

Mara was led into a back room, where a circle had been drawn on the floor, surrounded by a trio of smaller rings in a triangle formation. Runes had been drawn within and without the main sphere.

"Step into the center, and we will begin," Asajj instructed.

Mara did so, standing tall and proud as the three other females took up positions in the smaller rings, with Asajj at point, and the teenagers to either side. They lifted their hands, and began to chant incantations. Mara saw green mist rise from their outstretched fingers, and lifted a brow.

Quelling the urge to squirm, Mara she was engulfed in the emerald cloud. The mists swirled all about her, and it wasn't until it entered her body that Mara began to feel afraid. But nothing hurt yet, so she remained still.

She felt a pressure on her mind, and the sensation of having a warm, moist, and heavy blanket lifted from her shoulders was the end of the ritual. Mara blinked at the suddenness of the cloud's dissipation.

"It is done Sister Jade." Asajj smiled. "Enjoy your leave of absence."

Mara couldn't help but smile in return: she had never felt so light, and she knew that Palpatine's mind had been blocked from hers.

"My sisters will show you to your vessel." Asajj gestured and the girls bowed.

Keelu and Alcina took Mara to a small, abandoned landing bay where two ships stood.

"Take the fighter, we brought it in the hopes that you would agree to our terms." Alcina told Mara, gesturing to an angular craft that looked like something from the Clone Wars.

Seeing Mara's dubious expression Keelu actually laughed. "I know the ship looks ancient, but Sister Asajj has kept it well-maintained. It will get you where you need to go. The codes for leaving Imperial Center are already in the computer."

"Fair winds to you." Alcina waved goodbye.

"We will open the bay doors so you may leave." Keelu said in parting.

Mara nodded in thanks and approached the ship gingerly. She popped the canopy, settling into the pilots couch. It took her a few minutes to familiarize herself with the controls, but when she felt confident she started up the ship and lifted off the deck.

**00000**

It wasn't until Mara was at the point for hyperspace that she finally stopped to think of where to go. She tapped into the computer and discovered a message had been sent to her while she'd made her way to open space.

_Sister Mara,_

_I know you probably have no idea where to begin, but why not see what the Rebels are up to? You helped one of their kind before, and my sources tell me that he was asking about you. Just a thought. If you wish to see him again, you might try Cophrigin V._

Stunned, Mara read the note again. But after the initial chagrin had worn off, Mara had to admit that Asajj was right: she did not know where to begin.

The thought that the man she'd helped had been asking about her made something in Mara feel warm. Unaccustomed to such a thing, Mara reached back for it. Was that… hope?

The optimism that maybe… _just_ _maybe_ there was someone out there who could love her? Nerves crawled as Mara bravely looked up the coordinates that would take her to the man she'd helped… the man who for some reason was now on her mind, and would not leave her alone.

With a strange sense of _rightness_, Mara selected the jump route and pushed the hyperspace lever forward.


	7. Chapter 6

**(****A/N:**_ This story is NOT a crossover. When I started this story I didn't fully know what that meant, I do now, and though this story is in the Little Mermaid style, it will not include any of those characters. I apologize for any confusion I have created. Thank you._**)**

* * *

**Chapter Six:**

"Rogues, keep defensive formation!" Luke ordered as he and his squadron battled a Star Destroyer that had appeared above Cophrigin V. Apparently some of the cargo they'd commandeered had been tagged, and the Imperials had sent a scouting ship to see if there was Rebel activity in the area it was pinging from.

The base had gone dark to fool the Imperials' sensors, but it had been no use: they'd scanned for life-forms, and the concentration in a mountain had been an instant red flag.

Luke and the Rogues had been sent out to chase the Star Destroyer away, and now they were close to doing just that... if they could get past the TIE's.

Luke had no doubt the Star Destroyer was calling for reinforcements.

"Copy that, Rogue Leader," came several acknowledgements.

Luke broke off with his wingman, and together they targeted a pair to TIE's giving Rogues Five and Six a hard time. Luke shot one down and that earned him a tail of three more while Wedge took out the second.

Luke climbed in his X-wing, drawing the three TIE's with him. Once they were doing so, Luke started to spiral, tightening the maneuver until the three TIE's, copying his moves, collided when they ran out of space between their fighters.

"Split into wing-pairs, and pick off the remaining enemy fighters," Luke told his men now that he was free. "Once you get clear if the TIE's, start hassling the Star Destroyer some more. Get it to leave so we can work more on the base's evacuation."

"Yes sir!"

Luke gave the large ship a cursory glance: they had already inflicted damage, and it was venting gasses and atmosphere from previous hits, and yet it stayed. Luke was doubly sure the large ship was waiting for help, but according to Rebel spies, the nearest Star Destroyer was at least three days away.

So why would the Imperial vessel stay in such a condition?

Luke guessed the captain of this Imperial warship was trying to make a name for himself. Luke shook his head, and gave himself over to picking off TIE's.

He and Wedge tag-teamed to take on a wing-group of four TIE fighters close-by. The four split down the center as he and Wedge came in on their six.

"Keep with me on the two to port, Wedge," Luke ordered.

"Will do," Wedge answered.

The two of them zipped after the Imperials, and they caught up swiftly. Luke aimed and took a shot at the TIE that ran behind, his blasts taking out the wing. The small ship exploded into a fiery ball, which messed with his partner, making him easy pickings for the X-wings behind.

Luke's sensors rang just as his Force sense shouted a differing pair of warnings. "Break starboard!"

Wedge knew better than to question Luke, and he banked to the right as ordered. Luke's ship felt the heat more as the remaining two TIE's in their quartet caught up with Luke and Wedge. But that wasn't the only danger his senses had warned him of... yet he saw nothing...

Luke dove sharply to get away from the TIE's, drawing them with him as Wedge peeled off to come back around...

... and just as a small spacecraft exited hyperspace right where Luke had been before.

**00000**

Mara didn't expect that when she came out of lightspeed she would end up in a war-zone, but that was what happened. Thank the stars for her Force-awareness, because just as she reverted, her senses screamed at her to bank hard to port.

And not a moment too soon: an X-wing was diving steeply with two TIE fighters hot on his tail, and had she not turned, they would have collided in a fiery explosion of death. Mara put her years of Hand training to use and evaluated the situation swiftly.

One Star Destroyer: Victory class. This was a scouting ship, and it was already in poor shape. There were also at least twelve X-wings flitting about the thing, though the one she had nearly run into was being chased by two like they were hungry nek dogs chasing prey.

In fact, Mara allowed herself a moment to admire his skill as he first evaded their fire, and then used the bulk of the Star Destroyer to cover himself. That pilot kept so close to the hull that the TIE's crashed in their attempts to follow.

But when flashes of green lit up her cockpit, Mara was snapped back to reality. She dove in her antiquated craft, only then realizing she had no weapons save one set of forward laser batteries.

She gritted her teeth and knew her little ship wouldn't help in the fight much. Mara dove away from the TIE's on her six, drawing them away from the fight. Oddly enough, they banked away from her and went for an X-wing instead, as if they didn't think her a threat.

Mara thinned her lips, and that was when she abruptly recognized the presence in the Rebel fighter that her pursuit had gone after. It was Luke Skywalker!

Mara saw him now beset by four fighters and she decided to even his odds. Mara turned her craft about, managed to get a shot at and destroyed two of them before her craft shuddered on its own.

Alarm coursed through Mara and she felt the ship's controls wobble again. Mara gritted her teeth, not liking the looks of this. Not to mention the Force was telling her to go to ground.

Mara did just that, turning tail and giving her fighter enough juice to get to the atmosphere, where it began to cough and sputter shockingly. Mara fought the controls while high above and behind her the X-wings began to really hound the Star Destroyer, which resulted in multiple explosions rocking the thing's hull.

Then something in her ship exploded, and sparks shot up from her console to burn her hands and face.

Mara bit back a scream, knowing that the pain from her collar would be far worse. Her craft began to dive on its own, falling far too fast for her comfort. Mara feathered the repulsors to slow her descent while she pulled hard on the yolk to level out her angle as much as possible.

Trees came at her fast, and Mara braced herself for a rough landing, even as her borrowed craft finally responded enough to her commands to not land in a way that would kill her upon impact.

Then tree limbs were smacking her canopy, with some of the stronger boughs breaking the transparisteel. Mara shielded her face with one hand as she continued to steer the best she could with the other. She saw the emergency fire-system and activated it to kill the little fires that were starting, and then her craft hit the ground with such force she was snapped out of her harness, slamming her head into the console enough to knock her out.

**00000**

Luke had no idea where the little ship he'd very nearly collided with had gone, but someone had shot two of the four TIE's off his back, and then he had dispatched the rest with help from Wedge.

Now the Rogues were hounding the Star Destroyer, and the ship was nearly gone. Luke didn't understand how one man could be so selfish as to sacrifice his entire crew so he could make himself look better.

Or was there more to this situation than he knew?

Luke felt in the Force that there was... _something_ here he was missing, but not with the Star Destroyer. He indeed felt the confirmation in the Force that the man in charge of these Imperials was just that thick.

Then Artoo shrieked a warning, and Luke called out to his men. "It's going to blow! Get clear!"

The X-wings scattered and seconds later an enormous fireball that had once been a Star Destroyer lit up the space above Cophrigin V. Luke felt sad at the loss of so much life, but there was nothing more he could have done.

But this _would_ be his final official mission with the Rogues. He had spoken with Wedge before this day about resigning, and having Wedge take over. His friend was sad to see Luke go, but Luke wanted to focus more on the Jedi part of his life.

"Well done, Rogues," he praised them. "Let's go home."

**00000**

"Are you sure about this, Commander Skywalker?" General Rieekan asked almost wearily. The evacuation was going slowly due to the large scale of their base, even though the process had begun as soon as the Rogues had been sent out.

"I am, Sir." Luke inclined his head. "It's been an honor to lead the Rogues, but I am now a Jedi Knight and I wish to focus on the Force. I will of course still be of service to the Alliance, but not as Rogue Leader. Lieutenant Antilles is more than capable of taking over as Commander of Rogue Squadron."

Rieekan lifted brow. "And you wish to keep your X-wing."

"Yes please, Sir," Luke replied meekly. "I have no other means of transportation. Nor do I need anything huge."

Rieekan thought it all over and then slowly nodded, rising and extending his hand. "Very well. You are hereby relieved of duty in Rogue Squadron, and thus no longer do you hold the rank of Commander."

Luke stood and took the proffered limb. "Thank you Sir."

"May I ask what title to call you by?" Rieekan inquired. "Will Jedi Skywalker suffice, since you are not at the Master level yet?"

Luke nodded. "That will be perfectly fine, General. And thank you for allowing me to continue using my ship."

Rieekan smiled softly. "I'd dare say you've earned that craft young man. Go; rest a short while and then see what you can do to help the evacuation."

Luke offered a gentle grin. "Thank you again, General."

As he left Rieekan's office, Luke couldn't help but feel... _free_ now that he didn't have Rogue duty to worry over. He could do what he wished more-so now, and he liked that sound of that. Luke paused, feeling the Force urge him to take a walk outside.

With a slight frown, he obeyed, deciding he could use the fresh air anyway. Artoo trundled along behind him, having been at Luke's debriefing with Rieekan, and the Jedi smiled gently at his metal companion.

They eventually ended up outside, where Luke wandered for an unknown time, lost in thought. His mind wandered briefly to that mysterious vessel that had come and gone during the battle. Had he made it up?

He'd barely noticed it, and then he'd had his hands full with enemy fighters. By the time he'd thought to look for the ship again, it was long gone.

Speaking of coming and going... Luke still hadn't been able to piece together the mysterious red-headed woman who had aided him aboard the Imperial cruiser they'd gotten those supplies from.

He had only had a fleeting meeting with her, much like the case with that random ship earlier: she'd come, and was gone so fast he was left to wondering if he'd concocted her help in the dire situation.

And yet... that didn't _feel_ right. Luke could sense in the Force that she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

But then who was she? Luke did remember vividly how her voice had been music to his ears, and her brilliant hair had been unlike anything he'd ever seen. And those eyes... Force, those eyes!

His musings were cut short when Artoo suddenly stopped and extended his antenna. Luke frowned down at his little friend.

"What's up, Artoo?" he asked quietly, hand instinctively moving to his lightsaber.

Artoo twittered and then he took off, baffling Luke further. But he followed, especially when Artoo whistled urgently for him to do so.

"Okay, I'm coming." Luke jogged to catch up, feeling his own senses tingle with anticipation.

**00000**

When Mara woke, she had a killer headache; one that made her want to black out again. She was disoriented, and soon vomited when her head spun too much for her stomach to handle. Mara allowed herself a moment to recover when her Force senses didn't tell her she was in any immediate danger.

Mara waited for her equilibrium to return before she looked around. She noted that she was bleeding, and upon gingerly fingering her forehead, she met with a bloody lump. It also trickled warmly down her face in a tiny rivulet.

Next she saw that her ship was mangled and trashed, and Mara wondered how it was she wasn't dead with all the damage: including the multitude of protruding, broken branches in her cockpit's canopy.

Mara gingerly made her way from the pilot's couch, navigating the alarming maze of sticks until she tripped over the topmost and tumbled painfully to the upturned ground.

She grunted in discomfort, her annoyance at the ship failing making her forget her collar when she tried to verbally curse the three who'd lent her the thing.

This earned her a painful _zap _that made Mara jump, her eyes misting from the voltage.

Then her Force-sense tingled, and Mara heard the faint crunch of leaves and twigs. Her survival instincts kicking in, Mara looked around for some place to hide. Her eyes found only mid-sized boulders and trees.

The boulders weren't large enough to hide her frame, but the trees were climbable. Mara ran to the nearest one and made her way up.

**00000**

"Artoo, what..." Luke finally asked, exasperated, and yet more than curious as the Force whispered to him that he was about to be surprised.

He stopped dead when his eyes laid upon a long, wide groove in the ground that could only have been carved by a crashing...

_Dooep leeoot! _Artoo whistled, his antenna pointed in the direction the trail flowed.

"A ship!" Luke gasped, already breaking into a run as his eyes spotted it too.

He made it to the wreckage in record time, though he paused cautiously at the edge of the small clearing. When he sensed no... imminent threat, Luke approached the downed craft warily.

Then his eyebrows rose in surprise as he recognized the craft as the same one he'd had a fleeting glimpse of in the skies above.

"So this is what happened to that ship," he murmured, taking in the old model he hadn't seen in person save for at the occasional junkyard for parts. "That's an old Jedi Starfighter... or at least it was."

Luke knew this ship would never be airborne again, and so he instead focused on helping the pilot. Once Luke was close enough, he peered within, flinching at the mess he found within. And the blood.

Furrowing his brow, Luke bent closer and touched the crimson stain with a finger even as he heard Artoo catch up.

"It's still fresh, Artoo." He held out his finger for the droid to see, and then looked around. "But where is the occupant?"

Luke then realized that the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling in that sense one got when they were being watched. And the Force was still speaking gently to him that his discovery was not yet complete.

Luke's gaze roamed as Artoo extended his antenna again. Luke happened to glance down, and spied faint footprints leading to a tree. When he felt a flash of self-reproach that was not his own, Luke jerked his gaze upward... and felt a jolt as his gaze met another stare.

Luke gaped for a second. Though this figure stood in the deep shadows of the thick tree-leaf cover, and he couldn't see the features too clearly, this was very clearly a woman.

"What are you doing up there?" Luke asked.

At her lifted brow— a look that clearly said what she thought— Luke grimaced.

"Okay, I admit that was a dumb question." He snorted once in self-deprecation. "Why shouldn't you be cautious?"

He sensed her emotions shift from wary to more curious, though she didn't budge. He lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture, noting with concern her head-injury.

"A better question I think is why you are still up there?" He cocked his head slightly. "I mean you no harm."

Her intense eyes bored into his, and Luke got the distinct impression that this woman was more than able to care for herself, and yet… there was something… _hurting_ within her. Something longing to be… loved, nurtured?

He shook his head, not able to quite make head or tails about that, but when she finally shifted from the shade of her chosen tree to join him on the ground with a graceful bound, his breath was taken away.

Her hair was like a spit of red-gold flame; straight like a piece of flimsi, yet free-flowing as a silken cape down her back and shoulders. Her eyes were a vivid green that shone with intelligence, and her skin- lightly freckled- was of the finest porcelain.

Luke had to remind himself to breathe, and he suddenly realized he was staring, even as his subconscious screamed at him of her familiarity.

"Uh… sorry." He quickly looked away, returning to her downed craft. "Is there anything in here you want to take with you?"

Silence greeted him, but when he looked to her, she shook her head no. He thought it odd that she didn't speak, but dismissed it as nerves.

"Okay then, I can take you with me to our transport. The base is being evacuated since the Empire knows we're here now."

At the mention of the Empire, her gaze hardened, and this time it was she that broke eye-contact. He thought a flash of anger crossed her face, but it was covered up quickly.

"I can also offer you medical attention. The medics will be busy packing, but I'm sure one of them could..." he trailed off when she adamantly shook her head no.

"Ah, you don't want a medic?" Luke guessed.

She gave another shake of her head, and Luke pursed his lips. "But you need your head looked at."

She gave him a mild glare, and Luke backed down some.

"Well, if you don't want a _medic_..." he paused briefly, considering. "I could heal you, though I admit I don't have as much practice in healing as I'd like."

She studied him openly at that and Luke could see the gears turning in her mind. At last she nodded once, and Luke smiled genially.

"My name is Luke Skywalker by the way," he said as they began to walk back to base.

Luke felt a shift in her emotions, and glanced her way to find her eyeing him in turn. But she said nothing, only giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement.

Luke wondered again at her strange behavior, but chose to wait on that topic until another time.


End file.
